By Chance, By Choice
by Lady Dawson
Summary: Branded as a traitor, Emma Winchester fled from the Amazons and from the father that she refused to slay, in an effort to find some sense of normalcy. But she did not come alone. There was someone else there, hidden in the shadows, that Dean never knew about. And the Amazons are determined to hunt down the traitor . . . and the abomination.


**By Chance, By Choice**

by Lady Dawson

Chapter One: Breaking Free

There wasn't much that Emma remembered about her mother; she had only been a child when she was forced away from home, taken away to "that place" to learn to be a warrior, fated to kill her own father. Mostly, she remembered Lydia with her strawberry blonde hair, dark eyes, and cold demeanor; she acted as though Emma were bothering her most of the time, like she couldn't wait to send her daughter away from the only home Emma had ever known and away from what was hidden in the basement.

Everyone knew what was hidden down there; even at the Institute, they had whispered about it. Never to Emma's face, of course, but whenever they thought she was out of earshot, they whispered about it, laughed about it, and delightedly spoke of what would happen.

It was one of those rare times that Emma was glad that she had aged to sixteen in merely three days' time. As it was, she wanted to strangle those girls—the idea of actually spending sixteen _years_ with them was unimaginable.

Though, really, she had nothing to compare it to; she had only been alive for three days.

Looking back at her mother's house that day, when the Matrons came to take her away, Emma knew what she had to do; the cold look on her mother's face made her fear what would happen while she was gone.

And in that moment, Emma knew she would have to be constantly on guard; she would have to be on her toes at every moment, never letting the mask of the Amazon slip ever for a second, if she was going to survive.

She would have to keep her face blank, no matter what they told her to do; she would have to lie, to make them believe that she was with their cause. Worse, she would have to bite her tongue, whenever they would torture someone, whenever they would send one of the girls out on their blood mission. And she would have to bide her time, until they told her that it was time for hers.

And finally, that time came.

Mother Charlene called her up to her office that evening, dark eyes flickering across Emma's as she opened up a file, passing it to her.

"I'm afraid, Emma, that your blood mission will be significantly more difficult than your sisters," she said in a syrupy sweet voice that made Emma want to hurl. "You see, your mother committed the greatest crime of all; she lay with our enemy, a hunter of all things. It's no wonder that the goddess punished her for it. Your father is sworn to destroy those like us; he will be a challenge. But we have trained you well, Emma," she continued as Emma stared down at the picture of her father. His blond hair was darker than hers, but his eyes were the same green. "I am confident that you will complete your mission and be welcomed as a daughter of the tribe."

"I will not fail, Mother Charlene." Emma took great care not to let her voice tremor, keeping up the pretense of coldness.

"Be certain that you don't," was her reply, "for you know what happens to those that betray us, Emma."

She knew; she had watched as they killed Charlotte, one of Emma's sister-initiates that tried to run away; they caught her, tied her up, and dragged her back to the other initiates, proceeding to strip her of clothing before chopping her head off. Blood had gone everywhere; Emma's nightgown had been stained with it.

But she was different than Charlotte, Emma thought; she had an ally . . . if she was able to get him out.

"You have nothing to fear," Emma said quietly. "I will not return without completing my blood mission."

That was true, but she had no intention of even attempting said blood mission, but it wasn't like the matron knew that; she nodded approvingly, sliding a piece of paper across the desk to Emma.

"This is where you will find your father."

It was an address for a motel, with a room number; Emma memorized it quickly, nodding as she stood, inclining her head to the matron before she left.

Amazons paused as she passed, none of them saying a word; she had always been considered odd, an outcast . . . well, now she could understand why.

Daughter of a hunter . . . no wonder the matrons had kept such a close watch on her.

Emma knew they had followed her, even as she slipped through the streets, but she lost them once she slipped into a darkened store that was already closed for the night, swiping a backpack and stuffing some clothes into it. Not much, just a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans along with a pair of boots, adding a change of clothes for herself.

Once she had everything that she needed—or thought that she needed—Emma undid the clasp on the necklace she wore, that her mother had given her the day that she left, and left it on the counter, along with a list of everything she had taken, scribbling underneath _Hope this will pay for it._

And with that, she snuck out the back, glad to know that she had gotten away from the Amazons that had followed her. They would be watching the motel, though; they would wait to see if she failed or not.

But she wouldn't be there; she wouldn't be there and they wouldn't know until it was too late, Emma thought, turning instead for the residence of her other parent; her mother's house was on the other side of town, about as far away from the motel as she could have gotten, but she was more worried about what might have happened during her absence than her lateness alerting the Amazons to trouble.

Picking up speed, Emma hurried for the suburb that her mother lived with some of the other Amazons; most of them were at the Institute and those that weren't were eagerly awaiting the return of their own daughters. None would be expecting one to arrive so soon and her mother certainly wouldn't.

She still remembered where Lydia's house was, even though her memories were foggy of the place she had spent her childhood; there was a big tree in the backyard that would reach the upstairs window. That was probably her best way in, Emma decided as she snuck around to the back, keeping a close watch in case anyone happened to poke their heads out, but she was a shadow in the night.

Climbing the big tree, Emma jumped onto the roof, balancing herself as she squatted down to pick the lock; it gave way easily and she slipped inside, dropping onto the rug that ran through the hallway, casting a quick glance to ensure there was no one there.

The entire house was dark, Emma discovered upon venturing inside, walking through the halls she had scampered through during her girlhood. There was no sign of her mother; she wasn't home.

That was a relief; if a confrontation could be avoided, then Emma was glad to avoid it. She wasn't sure that she could win in a fight against her mother; she was a seasoned warrior while Emma was an initiate that refused to complete her blood mission. But if it came down to it, she would fight her way out, even if it was a hopeless battle.

Slowly creeping down the stairs, Emma peeked around the stairs just to reassure herself that her mother was indeed not there before entering the living room, approaching the bookshelf that she had gone down many times during the day she had spent here, to sneak food and sometimes just to comfort.

Reaching up, she found the right book, pulling it forward and the bookcase opened, splitting down the middle to reveal a hidden staircase behind it. Emma hurried through it, unconcerned as the bookcases moved back as soon as she stepped through, and made her way down the staircase.

There was little light down here but she knew the way, her feet moving through the basement as she reached for the flashlight she knew would be there, flipping it on to shine through, hearing the scurry of movement.

Turning to the sound, she found the cage at the far end of the basement, approaching it with cautiousness; there was a slight figure in the corner, stark naked and hiding his head into his knees, shuddering.

"Jayden?"

A small, stifled gasp came from the figure and slowly, he lifted his head, cautiously turning to her with wide eyes that were the same green as hers.

"Emma?"

She smiled as he crawled over to her, the chain that was around his ankle making it difficult to move very far but he made it to the bars; she slid her hand through the bars to lay her hand against his sunken cheek, heart breaking at what her mother had done to him.

"Hi, brother," she whispered to her twin.

* * *

It wasn't easy, getting Jayden out of there; during the three days that they had been alive, he hadn't been outside that cage that Lydia put him in, the second she brought them to this house. He had literally spent his whole childhood inside those bars and Emma didn't want to think about what else their mother might have done. Her blood chilled as she saw the bruises scattered across his pale skin.

In the old days, male Amazons were either left in the woods to die or sent back to their fathers, but ever since they became less than human, sons born into the tribe were treated with utmost shame, an abomination; they were no less than their female counterparts, aging just as quickly and had the same strengths and weaknesses, but they were treated as though they were somehow less, only useful to continue the Amazon line and afterwards, the daughter born of the union would complete her blood mission.

And that was why Emma had to get her brother out; she dreaded to think which of her sister-initiates would have claimed him and she wouldn't let that be his fate. He'd suffered enough and had done nothing to earn any of this.

It took longer to pick through the cage lock than it had the upstairs window, but she managed while Jayden clumsily donned the clothes she'd gotten for him—though not without difficulty, having never worn clothes before. Yet another way their mother had chosen to humiliate him.

Finally breaking the lock, Emma yanked the cage door open and approaching her brother, helping him get the clothes onto the right parts of his body; he winced as fabric touched the marks grazing his skin.

Some of them looked infected, she thought worriedly, but there wasn't anything that could be done about that right now; first they had to get out of here.

Lifting her gaze to her twin's frightened one, Emma wrapped her arms around him, hugging her brother for the first time.

Jayden immediately stiffened at the contact but slowly relaxed against her, his head sagging against her shoulder as he trembled; a small sob escaped from her as she closed her eyes, relishing in the moment. This entire time, they had never been able to have this simple contact, with the cage between them, keeping them from being able to exchange something as simple as a hug. But now the cage was no longer an issue.

They were far from out of this, though, she thought as she reluctantly pulled away, helping him tie the laces of his boots before she took his hand, guiding him away from the cage.

Jayden stopped dead in his tracks, a look of terror on his face, blood draining from his face as he stared at the cage.

"Hey . . . Jay, look at me," Emma whispered, stepping back and guiding his chin towards her. "Look at me, it's okay . . . it's okay, nothing's gonna happen, all right? Lydia's not here; she's not here . . . we're getting out of here, okay? We're getting out of here, but we have to go _now_ , before it's too late."

He hesitated but took an uncertain step forward, across where the cage door way, boot touching the concrete outside of it; instantly, he froze, as though he thought something would happen just by taking that one step, but of course it didn't.

Green eyes clashing with hers, Jayden took a deep breath, taking another step so he was fully outside the cage, though he looked back at it with something of wariness before returning his gaze to her.

"It's okay," she reassured him, taking both hands and leading him through the dark basement to the staircase. "It's all right, just lift your foot up . . . yes, just like that," she encouraged him as he clumsily stepped up, gripping her hands like they were his lifeline, "that's it . . . easy does it."

She kept talking him through it until they reached the top of the stairs; Emma hoped that, in the time it took to get Jayden up here, her mother hadn't come back. If she had, there would be a fight on her hands.

"Stay here for a sec," she told him. "I'll be right back, promise."

Swallowing in terror, Jayden reluctantly nodded, gripping the handrail tightly as she pulled on the lever that was nearby to reopen the bookcases, her knife dropping from where it hid in her sleeve, holding it defensively in front of her.

She wasn't sure what to expect; a thousand scenarios had gone through her mind, from being shot with arrows as soon as she stepped through to her mother attacking to being faced with every single one of her sister-initiates to having to face the Matrons all at once.

Any of them was a possibility and thousands more, but nothing prepared her for Lydia sitting there on the couch, sporting a glass of dark wine as she waited; her gaze was just as dark and cold as she remembered, not even blinking as Emma dropped into a defensive stance, holding the knife in front of her.

She just stared at her daughter for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Then, finally, she said, "You've made your decision, then?"

"I made it the second you took Jayden down there."

Lydia snorted. "Jayden . . . you even gave that thing a name . . ." She shook her head, downing her drink as she stood, making her way to the bar to refill it. "You know if you do this, if you take him away from here, if you fail your blood mission, if you abandon the tribe . . . they will never stop hunting you. Every moment of your life, you will spend looking over your shoulder, waiting for the moment when they find you. It doesn't matter how many of us you take down along the way; you will be hunted until the end of your days. And it won't stop there," she added. "Your children will be hunted and your children's children . . . it will never stop until you have been obliterated."

"It doesn't matter." Emma didn't step out of her defensive stance, waiting. "Let's get this over with, _Mother_."

"They'll kill me too," Lydia continued as though she hadn't spoken. "They wanted to do it the moment that I gave birth to an abomination, but my daughter was supposed to be my salvation. You were supposed to save me; instead, you become a traitor, all for something that shouldn't even exist to begin with." She shook her head, disgusted. "I'm ashamed to call you my daughter."

"And I've been ashamed of you, for what you've done. Jayden did nothing to you; he's innocent in all this."

"No such animal."

Emma laughed in disbelief. "What happened to make you such a bitch?"

"I was a good soldier; I did my duty. The better question is, how did I end up with such a rebellious daughter? It's that father of yours, that's the problem. Guess there was a reason why they said never to lie with a hunter." She dismissed Emma with a wave. "Just go."

She hesitated but reached through the bookcase, beckoning Jayden, who was listening with terror; he blinked at her unsurely, but took her hand and she helped him up the last few stairs, shielding him with her body as they walked to the back door just to make sure that their mother didn't try anything.

But all Lydia said was, "If I ever see you again . . . you'd best be ready . . . if I ever see you again, it will be the fight of your life."

"Count on it."

And with that, Emma and Jayden escaped through the back door to freedom.

AN: Hey, guys, long time no stories! I know, I know, totally on me . . . to be honest, I'm trying to work on my own book rather than fanfiction, but this little story won't get out of my head, so here's a new one! Hope you enjoy it and I will try to actually work on it . . . assuming anyone's interested in this, anyway. So . . . let me know what you think!

Lady Dawson


End file.
